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Madness

The clearest sign of love

is madness.

 

Case in point:

 

Me, standing here,

looking to you for some

glance,

some gesture that

(even if by chance)

tells me that  you know

of my love’s existence.

I’m fantasizing about the

taste of your lips.

But I’m too old

for this shit,

so I dial down the crazy and say

“OK, sure”, when you say

that you will

walk me to my car.

Me planning our future

together

despite the fact that we have

never

been on a “real” date.

I imagine myself ‘wife’

and think

about our future life.

I’d cook your

favorite meals

and rub the hands you use

to heal the sick

and the broken.

We’ll live in a modest house

(with one dog and two cats)

where we’ll create a home

filled with the

laughter of children

and the love of friends.

But I’m trying to dial down

the crazy,

so I attempt a light smile

instead

of a Cheshire grin when

you say,

“I’ll see you later”.

Shit!

When is later?

 

Me barely being able to tolerate

your presence but desiring

every minute of your time.

You’ve got me writing

balcony scenes

in my mind with

me as Romeo and

you, the fair Juliet,

holding my very heart

in your hands.

Me allowing myself to be

so exposed

knowing that where you

go, I will go.

You hug me good-bye and

I hold on

just a little too long –

drinking in

your scent and

memorizing the curves

of your body and how they

fit perfectly with mine.

And finally, I just give in to

the crazy

because, well

the clearest sign of love is

madness.

30 July 2010

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